As a rule, I always took Moses with me in my rambles into the forest, and I found him to be quite useful in one way. His eyes were like the lens of a camera--nothing escaped them; and when he discovered anything in the jungle, he always made it known by a peculiar sound. He could not point it out with his finger, but by watching his eyes the object could often be located. Frequently during these tours the ape rode on my shoulders, and at other times the boy carried him, but occasionally he was put down on the ground to walk. If we travelled at a very slow pace, and allowed him to stroll along at leisure, he was content to do so, but if hurried beyond a certain gait he always made a display of his temper. He would turn on the boy and attack him, if possible; but if the boy escaped, the angry little ape would throw himself down on the ground, scream, kick, and beat the earth with his own head and hands in the most violent and persistent manner. He sometimes did the same way when not allowed to have what he wanted. His conduct was exactly like that of a spoiled, ugly child. He had a certain amount of ingenuity, and often evinced a degree of reason which was rather unexpected. It was not a rare thing for him to solve some problem that involved a study of cause and effect, but always in a limited degree. I would not be understood to mean that he could work out any abstract problem, such as belongs to the realm of mathematics, but simple, concrete problems, where the object was present. On one occasion, while walking through the forest we came to a small stream of water. The boy and myself stepped across it, leaving Moses to get over it without help. He disliked getting his feet wet, and paused to be lifted across. We walked a few steps away, and waited. He looked up and down the branch to see if there was any way to avoid it. He walked back and forth a few yards, but found no way to cross it. He sat down on the bank, and declined to wade it. After a few moments he waddled along the bank, about ten or twelve feet, to a clump of tall slender bushes growing by the edge of the stream. Here he halted, whined, and looked up into them thoughtfully. At length he began to climb one of them that leaned over the water. As he climbed up, the stalk bent with his weight, and in an instant he was swung safely across the little brook. He let go the plant, and came hobbling along to me with a look of triumph on his face that plainly indicated that he was fully conscious of having performed a very clever feat.